


Morning Routine

by thegirlinthebandtshirt



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Swan - Freeform, Comfort, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Morning Routines, Nightmares, Sleepy Cuddles, Spoilers for Episode: s06e01, Spoilers for Episode: s06e03, spoilers for episode: s06e04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 00:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8348449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlinthebandtshirt/pseuds/thegirlinthebandtshirt
Summary: An exploration of Captain Swan's bedtime/morning routine.





	

**Author's Note:**

> With Emma finally asking Killian to move in with her, I got to thinking, and the thought of the two of them living together so comfortably to the point where they fall into a routine was too cute for me to not explore. I hope you all like it!  
> -Jordy

Emma is aware of the fact that her boyfriend is probably the most infuriatingly handsome and charming man to ever exist; anyone could see that. This is why her favorite moments with her pirate are the ones people couldn’t look in on. Killian is at his absolute cutest when he’s sleepy.

Emma had no clue what time Killian went to sleep… ever. Regardless of how tired he is, he always waits for Emma to fall asleep first. He even watches over her after she falls asleep. Between the toll being Savior has on a person, and those awful visions she had back when Jafar was terrorizing Storybrooke, Emma is no stranger to nightmares. He always wakes her when she has them. His voice is gentle, reminding her “hey, it’s okay,” and “it’s just us,” as well as “it was only a dream,” “I’m here, Love,” and the occasional, “I’m alive. Zeus sent me back, remember?”. He mutters these soft reminders as he wraps both arms around her, holding her as tightly as he can without hurting her. She presses her head against his chest, listening to his heart beating steadily as an indication. His stump is firm against her, helping to steady her as his good hand rubs soothing circles on her back, sometimes tracing lines up and down her arm. She unconsciously fiddles with his necklace, rolling the charms in her hand, using the feeling as a sign that she was awake now and that this is real. She breathes him in, the scent of sea-water and leather fills her nose. This is real. He always manages to calm her down, the combination of his voice and his physical actions providing comfort, even when she feels the nightmares will consume her. He is determined to get her to sleep soundly, not stopping his soothing motions until her eyelids flutter and she whispers a light “thank you” or “I love you” before she lets herself fall asleep. Only when he is certain that his Emma will sleep peacefully through the night will he let himself succumb to sleep.

When they first moved in together, she assumed that he’d always wake up unnaturally early, as life on the sea means you rise with the sun, but most days she wakes before him, her alarm ending sleep for them both (What she doesn’t know is that Killian is up before her and watches her sleep until right before her alarm goes off, then pretends to sleep because he knows it makes her happy.) She wakes up to find his arms around her every morning, without fail. No matter what position they fall asleep in, his arms are always wrapped around her when she wakes. She never wants to leave her bed in the morning. There is nothing that makes her feel as safe as she does when her limbs are tangled with her true love’s.

She always sets her alarm for earlier than she needs to get up. She learned from one too many days showing up late for work that every time she tries to get up, Killian tightens his arms around her, keeping her in place, if not pulling her even closer to him. She resists the urge to shut her eyes and give in, just to relax for just a few more minutes in the arms of her pirate. She would never get up if she did.

So most mornings, she grumpily turns her alarm off and sighs in anticipation of the day. Ignoring her need to get up so she can get to the station on time, she lies back down and mumbles a “good morning” or a “Killian,” trying not to smile, as it was too early to function and no one should be this happy to be awake at this ungodly hour, but she couldn’t help it. He responds with a barely coherent “morning, Swan.” She feels his breath on the back of her neck, in her hair, or against her chest, depending on how they fell asleep. His lips ghost against her skin, causing her to break out in goosebumps, despite the warmth from his breath, their shared body heat, and the blanket.

She loves watching him. His eyes are still closed at this point, his dark lashes standing out against his fair skin. His hair has surrendered to the pillows, standing up in about three different places. His features are relaxed as she looks up at him. She traces his jawline with her finger, sliding them off target to brush over his scar, letting them linger for a moment. She then moves her fingers to thumb over his lips. She repositions her head so it rests where his neck meets his shoulder. She moves her fingers down, grazing them down his neck and across his collarbone until they meet his chest, where they rub circles into the copious amount of hair there. She can feel him grin into her hair as he nuzzles into it, then moves down to nuzzle at her neck. The scrape of his scruff is unmistakable. He mumbles into her neck; his utterances are completely incoherent as he speaks directly into her skin, words lost between the nuzzling and sleepy kisses he plants on her neck and jawline.

Now she makes her first attempt of the morning to get up, but he keeps his arms tight around her, their limbs tangled. He only lets her up when he is ready or when she is absolutely desperate. She sighs in defeat and he smirks in satisfaction. He makes a happy little noise from his throat; his voice is irresistibly deeper in the mornings. He opens his eyes in reply to her attempts to get up. His eyes are strikingly blue, the perfect wake-up as she brings her sparkling green eyes to meet his own eyes. His eyelids are visibly heavy with sleep. She smiles as she watches him blink rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes and clear his vision. And now comes the coherent “can’t you stay home today?” or “don’t go.” He plays with the ends of some of her hair that has found its way over her shoulder. He gives her his puppy dog eyes and says, “Swan.” She pleads with him, against everything in her, to let her up so she could get ready for work. Unsuccessfully trying to hide his disappointment, he smiles sympathetically and releases her from his death grip.

He props his head up on his good hand and he watches her get ready. He watches her shed the tank top she wore to bed. He licks his lips, wishing he could take her hand and guide her back into bed, as her sudden absence from beside him is apparent as he becomes aware of the sudden drop of temperature on the bed. He already misses her body heat pressed against him. They make small talk. She tells him about her schedule for the day and asks him about his own. She complains that he didn’t let her up soon enough to take a shower; he compliments the way she looks, telling her that she is a vision, completely stunning. She blushes and throws a shirt at him, telling him that if she has to get up, so does he. He chuckles as he throws on the shirt, pulling his necklace out from underneath the shirt he just donned, unwillingly standing up. He grabs his hook from where it rests on the bedside table and puts it into place, he decides to leave his rings for later, before joining her in the bathroom as she brushes her teeth. He gets his toothbrush as well, smiling as they get ready together. She finishes brushing her teeth and puts on a bit of makeup; she never wanted to overdo it, and Killian never left her much time to put it on carefully anyway. Plus, Killian uses more eyeliner than she did, so she was always running out. She sees that they are nearly out again, and she gives him a playful slap to the gut. He smirks and spits the excess toothpaste out of his mouth. He runs a hand through his tousled locks, willing them to cooperate. She puts her makeup away and goes downstairs, leaving Killian to finish up in the bathroom, to make a quick breakfast before she has to meet her dad at the station.

She makes breakfast for them both: pancakes. She is always happy to cook for him because he always makes breakfast in bed for her, or surprises her by packing her lunch, or making romantic dinners. Once he figured out how modern kitchen appliances worked, after the months of Emma coming home to burned food and total messes, he became quite a skilled cook. He follows the scent of coffee into the kitchen. She grins in response to his disheveled appearance. He was in a t-shirt, the one she threw him earlier, but the shirt was falling halfway off one of his shoulders. He hasn’t bothered to put on his pants yet, so he walks around in his boxers, and that’s only because she insisted that he start wearing underwear at all. She has to admit she’s not sure it’s exactly an improvement, but she’s not nearly as terrified of her family barging in. His hair is mostly tamed now, but still sticks up in the back. His facial hair is a bit unruly, but that’s not his fault. His hair is so thick; it seems to grow in mere minutes. She knows he’ll shave after she leaves. He drags his feet as if too tired to pick them up; she thinks he’s just doing this to be dramatic, but she gets him a mug for coffee anyway. She hands him the mug, pouring coffee in it, and a little rum as well. He takes it appreciatively and gives her a sleepy kiss on the cheek. He smiles to himself when he sees the plate of pancakes she is bringing to the table. Her pancakes were delicious.

“Nutmeg.” She sits down next to him, her hand coming up to smooth down the hair still sticking up in the back, then falling to play with the hair at the back of his neck. He raises his eyebrows.

“What?”

“That’s the secret to the pancakes. Nutmeg. Learned it from my dad, right before you moved in.” She brings her mug up to her mouth with the hand not interlaced in his hair. He takes another bite of pancake and nods.

“And speaking of the prince,” he sighs and looks away from her eyes, one of his eyebrows raises as he continues, “you’re going to be late.” She looks at the clock he is gesturing to with his hook and her eyes widen. She didn’t mean to let their morning run this late.

“I’m sorry,” she shoots him an apologetic look as she stands up and grabs her sheriff badge and red leather jacket. Slipping her phone into her pocket, she walks over to Killian and gives him a parting kiss. “I’ll see you later, Killian. Tell Belle I said ‘Hi’.”

“I will, Love.” Their eyes linger on each other’s for another moment longer. “Be careful, Swan.” She nods in acknowledgment and opens the door, rushing to her car, and driving to the station.

Back at home, Killian finishes his breakfast, gets dressed, and cleans up before going to meet Belle on the Jolly Roger. He decides he’ll go surprise Emma at the station with grilled cheese and onion rings for lunch. He loves their routine, and is filled with overwhelming warmth when he thinks about the domestic bliss he and Emma had been living in since she asked him to move in with her. He smiles at the merging of their jackets in their closet as he grabs his “modern” leather jacket, then heads out to his ship, smiling as the smell of the salty sea air hits his nose.


End file.
